Balls and Bats
by Yukitsu
Summary: Collection of the porny or mildly porny Oofuri fics I have. Various pairings, mostly TajiHanaTaji.
1. TajiHanaTaji: Roof Sex

**Antennae**

By Yukitsu

Notes: Another one for LMC. Roof sex. Sorta!

* * *

"Hanaiii" Tajima said from the top of the roof. Nishiura's captain looked up from the snagged wire he was trying to retrieve from the tree, and ended up seeing Tajima's briefs from under his shorts.

Hanai didn't mean to. Just, Tajima was on the roof. The said cleanup hitter was grinning down at him, holding the TV antenna up, wearing nothing but a pair of red shorts. Sunbathing, he said. "Here it is! What do I do with it?"

"Uh," Hanai muttered. "Move it a little. Gently, yeah." He ducked his gaze to check the progress of the television in the living room through the window. He could hear the other team members in the background doing other things in the house; Sakaeguchi, in particular, was being loud about getting Suyama to go with him to pick fuki.

One day, he swore, he'd get Momokan to choose a WORKING location for their camping trips. With actual working amenities.

"Move it around gently? What, like I'm wanking off?"

THAT caught Hanai's attention. His head snapped up so fast he felt it pop. "NO," he said firmly.

"What, then?" the smaller boy asked petulantly, looking cute although Hanai knew better than to think so. "You do it! Since you're tall and all."

"What has that got to do with anything?"

"I dunno! Come on up, anyway."

Hanai frowned, and finally got that wire unhooked. Took a while. "How am I supposed to see the television if I'm up there?"

"Well, put it on loud. We'll hear it if it's right again." That didn't seem like a bad idea. Hanai put it on a cartoon channel and turned the volume up before taking his shoes and shirt off, and reluctantly making his way up.

"Here," Tajima said, thrusting the rod over. Hanai took it without a second thought, and then realized that he had no idea what to do with it.

Well. He couldn't possibly do it worse than Tajima. He wouldn't jerk it off or anything.

Hanai brushed past Tajima -- the smaller guy really needed a bath; his skin was sweaty to the touch and Hanai didn't quite know what to think about that -- and attached the rod to its place.

Static from below. He supposed it would have been too lucky if they fixed it too fast. Momokan really should get them better lodgings, now that their parents were willing to fund them, but he guessed that it was good training to maintain their own living space for a week. Or rather, it was good training to actually try to fix the place to something livable.

Hanai turned the antenna this way and that, wondering if there was actually any way of fixing it. Nothing really happened, although the static got louder and Tajima's nagging wasn't really helping. He was NOT wanking the damn thing!

"There-- wait, no-- agh! Crap," Hanai muttered to himself as the television showed signs of coherency and promptly died back to static. He glanced at his companion, who gave him a small, smug, I-told-you-so look. Hanai felt short for a while.

"Well--" he snapped, "you do it!"

"I keep on telling you," Tajima sniffed, "It's supposed to be like this!" And then he promptly made a grab for the antenna from behind Hanai, his arms reaching forward from either side. Before Hanai could react, Tajima was prodding his hands to make him move the antenna certain-- ways.

"Tajima," he mumbled, feeling just a little dirty. Tajima's skin was warm and cold against his back. It was NOT FAIR, they agreed that there would be no molesting during the trip, Tajima's dick exploding be damned and-- good god, he was jerking the antenna off.

"See? It's working!" Tajima did not sound disturbed. This came too naturally to him, damn the brat, and Hanai-- Hanai was not feeling comfortable.

(On the ground floor, Izumi passed by the loudly static television. "Who's the idiot who unplugged the antenna?" he asked no on in particular, before plugging the thing on and returning on his duties in the kitchen.)

The television blared to life. Hanai nearly fell off the roof from surprise, and he would have if Tajima hadn't practically been hugging him anyway.

"How the hell could it have worked?" he demanded jumpily, still startled over the Doreamon theme polluting the area with noise.

"It came," Tajima concluded, wrapping his arms around Hanai's waist casually. How he could have thought of that, Hanai didn't want to know. Instead, he carefully made sure the antenna was properly attached to its place.

"Right, we should go down now," he pointed out, trying to shrug Tajima off. He swatted the hand making its way down his pants -- he should have risked tearing his shirt, if Tajima was going to be like this -- and hoped they didn't fall. No one would probably hear them over the television below.

Tajima pushed him down in one swift move (where did he learn that?!). "Tajima," he said with rising exasperation, "I said we should go DOWN, not to push me down. The rice will be done soon. You don't really trust Mihashi to take care of it, do you?"

"Abe will help him!" Aah. He recognized that tone. It was the one that said that Tajima was excited to get off already.

"It's only been a day!" he couldn't help but protest, squirming in Tajima's grip. "Leggo! What happened to fasting for a week?!"

"But Hanai, don't you think it's hot doing it here?" Tajima asked, already reaching in and touching that important place that shouldn't really be touched in a time and in a place like this.

"Of course it--" Hanai's breath hitched. "Of course it's hot! It's in the middle of the afternoon and we--we're-- we're on the damn roof!"

"If you're too noisy. Someone will hear you."

"Wha-- eeergh. Tajimaaa."

If for anything, Hanai could at least take credit for trying to resist and turning around so at least they were facing each other. Of course, he'd done it to be able to push Tajima away better, but his momentary distraction was costly and Tajima had his whole hand in Hanai's pants.

In. His. Fricking pants. On the roof.

"Hanai! Tajima! Where are you?" Abe was on the ground looking for them. UP at them, actually. For once, Hanai was very glad Tajima had pushed him down, because it at least kept HIM from Abe's sight.

The taller teenager felt himself blanch, blush, and blanch again. Before he could say anything, though, Tajima had clapped a hand over his mouth. "Oi, Abe! We're up here, fixing the antenna properly."

"Oh, all right." If Abe stepped a little more forward, he'd be able to see what they were doing. As it was, Abe was generally uninterested in anything but baseball and Mihashi, and left them alone at that. "I'll turn the television off, if you're done breaking our ear drums."

"No, leave it on!" Tajima laughed, "We need to test the antenna. Rod's too sensitive and all."

Hanai, through it all, was suffering between trying to refrain from moaning and resisting the urge to ask Abe to help him out. The only thing that stopped him was Tajima's hand on his mouth. That, and he knew Abe would never let him live it down if he found out. The bastard would probably LAUGH at him.

"Abe's such a nasty guy," Tajima remarked as he continued where he had left off, taking the hand from Hanai's mouth for better use elsewhere -- namely, down his own pants.

"What?" It was probably safe to assume that he was a little dazed. And hot. He blushed a little more when Tajima took his hand and guided it down to the boy's crotch, but obliged because really, what was there to do?

"Abe--is a-- mmm." At least HE wasn't the only one (enjoying) suffering through this. "Nasty guy."

(Abe, downstairs, sneezed.)

"You, too," Hanai bit out, lowering himself down on his back to free his other arm, tugging Tajima closer to him in his Hanai way of making sure the other boy was comfortable. "You're nasty."

"Yeah, well, you like it anyway."

Later on, when they came back from the roof, Abe idly commented on their dirty state and asked, absent-mindedly as he made sure Mihashi was eating properly, if the antenna was the cheap kind.

Hanai choked on his rice.

---

7:50AM 12/31/2007

Wrote this while on chat with lj userkiwimangoodness , after I couldn't sleep because a fricking cockroach attacked me in bed. My brain is dead, I'm sleep typing, etc etc. Her art post thoroughly cheered me up from the cockroach, though, so there is love to be had. And also for lj usermmoneypenny , who kept me company the whole frigging night. shakes fist at insect


	2. TajiHanaTaji: Kitchen Play

**Kitchen Play**

By Yukitsu

Standard Disclaimers Apply

Notes: Written for LMC's request in the Kink Meme over at LJ.

* * *

When Azusa enrolled into Nishiura, he hadn't really expected to get hitched with a puppy. A small, hyperactive, enthusiastic puppy at that. But the fact remained that every Thursday, when his mother was not home, his sisters were in music school, and his father was where fathers usually were, the puppy followed him home.

"Hanaiii" the said puppy _chirped_ in his very Tajima way, pouncing on him from behind. "What are you cooking?"

"… Curry," Azusa answered, shrugging Tajima off with the ease of one who had people pounce on him every day. Or just one person. Either way, Tajima lent for a lot of practice.

"Great! Don't forget extra spices, 'kay?"

"I'm not cooking this for you, you know," the taller boy pointed out even though the food _was_ for his guest (and sometimes boyfriend). It just made him feel better to deny it (and that).

"And extra onions!"

"Are you listening to me?" He didn't really expect an answer to that.

Tajima pointed at the pot. "Hanaiii, the curry will burn if you don't stir it properly!"

"I_am_ stirring it properly," Azusa answered with great patience. "Tajima, will you get your arms off me already? I'm sweaty and still have to change clothes. That's gross."

For once, Tajima let him go immediately. "You should change clothes, then. I'll stir."

Tajima, he amended, also had some spot of brain on him. After all, if the cleanup hitter could understand Nishiura's quirky pitcher, then he must be able to use that same sensitivity for everyone else? He took the apron off and left it on the counter, thanking Tajima as he handed him the ladle and made his way to his room.

He had just pulled off his shirt and was in the middle of pulling on his shorts when Tajima yelled from downstairs. Azusa automatically jumped at the sound and, in his haste to get to the door, tripped over his pants. Elbow stinging and possibly his pants ripped, he ignored it in favor of rushing downstairs and—

"Tajima, what happened?" he spluttered, staring at the mess that was _his mother's_ _stove_. The curry was no longer inside the pot as it was supposed to be, but had somehow splattered everywhere outside of it. He felt an eyebrow twitch when a chunk of potato slid down the side of the counter.

"It exploded," was the answer. Tajima looked about as baffled as he was, though that quickly changed to excitement as the smaller boy poked around the remains of the curry, inspecting it to find out why it had gone off like that. "Do you think it's an alien conspiracy and they're putting explosives in curry, now?"

"What? No way." He picked up the apron he left on the other counter and slipped it on, vaguely noting that it was scratchy against his skin but pushing the thought at the back of his mind. The mess needed to be cleaned up before his mother got home, or else he and Tajima were going to be doomed _for life_ and not even Momokan would be able to save them. "Help me, will you? Hurry up before it makes a bigger mess."

Surprisingly, they both of them managed to clean the kitchen back to its normal, pristine condition in just a little under half an hour. He supposed Tajima's quick reflexes helped this time, although there really was nothing they could do about the smell. He'll just have to air the kitchen out some.

"There goes dinner," he said ruefully. "I'll just take a shower to get the curry off me, and then let's go to the convenience store. I'll pay."

Azusa liked eating curry, but he didn't like it _on_ him. He had been wearing the apron, but he still got some on his knees and arms, and his elbow stung from his crash earlier. He also smelled a little like curry, though he supposed a good soaping would take care of that. These were his thoughts as he made his way back up, Tajima on his heels.

In retrospect, Azusa should really have known that keeping his guard down while Tajima was around was nothing short of asking to be pounced on. Or molested, either way. He realized this as the smaller boy hustled him into the bathroom and practically shoved him in the shower stall.

"_Tajima_!" Azusa screeched as the cold water hit his back, "The hell are you doing?!"

"You were walking slow. I'm dirty, too, so let me shower with you!"

If Azusa hadn't been used to Tajima by now, he would have believed him and left it at that. The grin, however, as well as the fingers splayed across his stomach told him that they wouldn't be getting anything to eat for a while yet. Was that why Tajima had been so fast with cleaning the kitchen?

"You're getting wet," he pointed out darkly, ushering Tajima out the stall and getting in the way of the spray more because he was _considerate_ like that (though the truth was, he had a lot of trouble getting any of his clothes to fit Tajima short of borrowing stuff from his sisters, and he didn't want to go through Tajima walking around half naked in his room ever _again_when they were supposed to be studying). Tajima pouted but conceded, and once the imp was out, Azusa turned to tug the apron off.

"You," he muttered as naked arms snaked around his middle, just before he could pull it off entirely, "are too damn fast for a human being."

"But you were _almost naked_ the whole time in the kitchen!" Azusa was glad they weren't facing each other; he fancied he saw his blush reflected on the tiles in front of him.

"You notice these things way too much, Tajima."

"I do _not_. You were _almost naked_!" One hand up his torso, rubbing at his chest through the rough fabric, another hand back to its place on his stomach, Tajima's palm warm on his skin.

"You're the naked one between us." The hand from his stomach slipped lower to the edge of his shorts, the other one slipping under cloth to rub at a nipple with deft fingers. The water was warming up, too. "Tajima, we still need to eat and study, you know."

"Okay." He didn't really have to worry – they were usually fast with this because they were used to stealing moments between practice and school and everything else. Still, Tajima was known for getting carried away.

Azusa hissed when Tajima slipped his hand down the taller boy's shorts and wrapped around his half-hard erection, the water sliding down his skin that was suddenly _too warm_. Something bumped against the back of his thigh and, on instinct, he turned around and pulled Tajima towards him as he leaned himself against the tiled wall.

And that damn apron was still on him. He plucked it off his chest and over his head, letting it drop to the floor and shivering as the air hit his skin. Tajima's hand was still _there_.

"Did you make the curry explode on purpose?" he murmured as he bent his leg a little and pulled Tajima flush to his body, Tajima's own erection rubbing against his thigh. His teammate had leaned his forehead on Azusa's chest, small, warm puffs of breath tickling him. Azusa reached down to wrap his own hand around Tajima's cock and was rewarded with a hiss and a gasp.

"No-no way. It just went off on its own."

"Oh. Right."

They stop talking at that point, concentrating on the sensation of each other's hands and listening to each other's breaths under the pitter-patter of water. They weren't very experienced, but it was enough to be mind blowing and it was enough to push them towards the edge.

------

"I figure," Azusa speaks up later on as they're wolfing down their second batch of instant ramen, "maybe we should study in the library instead of at home. Or at school. We don't get that much done at home."

Tajima pauses shoveling noodles into his mouth to look at him, eyebrows raised in some sort of mild awe. "You mean sex in public? Sounds awesome!"

Azusa paused, shook his head. "Never mind."

------

9:01PM 01/16/2008


	3. HamaUmeHama: Trumpet Boy

**Trumpet Boy**

By Yukitsu

Notes: Trumpet Boy challenge. BD

* * *

"You know," Ume started one normal day, reaching out from under the sheets to grab the glass of water on the nightstand, "I think that guy likes you."

"What guy?" Hamada asked absently, looking for his pants, peering under the bed and getting to his feet to continue his search. He and Ume really needed to not throw their clothes around so much...

"Matsuda. You know, trumpet boy."

Hamada found the pants. Stepped on it, in fact, and fell over with a resounding crash. The alarm clock fell to the floor and broke into two pieces.

"WHAT?"

Ume was not being sympathetic to the new bruise that's probably going to pop up on his knee. Hamada didn't mind the alarm clock so much – it was his second that month, which was really a record. Ever since becoming leader of the ouendan, he'd been cycling through clocks.

"I think he likes you."

The blond sputtered and picked himself up. "Why would he? What? You're crazy."

The other cheerer popped his head out from under the blankets to drink and raised an eyebrow. "Hey, I like you, don't I?"

"You're crazy."

"True," Umehara acquiesced. "Well, he's always staring at you."

Hamada stared at HIM, baffled. "Dude. He kinda has to? I mean, I hold the signs up."

Ume raised the other eyebrow. "He stares at your ASS when you're facing away." Hamada blushed, covered his ass even though Ume just spent the night molesting it.

"You're perverted," he accused, grumbling as he pulled his pants up. "Matsuda is PURE, he doesn't have anything for me."

And his fellow ouendan member laughed. "Pure. Right." Jerk.

"He i is /i pure," Hamada insisted. "Like Mihashi!"

Ume laughed harder.

"Hey, if someone like, like--" Hamada paused. "If someone like ABE liked you, what would you do?"

He stopped laughing. "Dude." Wrinkled his nose. "Not funny."

"See?"

"But," Ume pointed out, "Matsuda is different. He's your cute kohai."

"He is not! We're the same batch!"

Ume snorted "Not really."

"Anyway," Hamada stressed, "Matsuda does not like me."

"Hey, I wouldn't mind him with us. He's a nice guy. And he plays the TRUMPET."

The blond paused. Processed.

"YOU'RE A PERVERT!" he said loudly, smacked Ume right in the face with his pants.

----

1/31/2008 4:00PM

Omake:

"You know," Ume started again, voice muffled with a yawn. "Matsuda stares at Kaji's ass, too."

"Stop it!" Hamada demanded, whacking the dark haired teen with a pillow. Umehara had already gone back to burrowing under the covers.


	4. HamaUmeHama, TajiHanaTaji: Gambling

**Gambling**

By Yukitsu

Notes: Requested by LMC and Akiha over at LJ, written in chat.

* * *

"I did not cheat," Umehara insisted as he gathered his winnings with his arms and pulled the lot to him. It wasn't really much money -- they'd all been playing with coins and small stones -- so he didn't really understand why they were all insisting he give it back for cheating. Not that he cheated, because he so did not.

Well, Hamada had been showing him his pieces. Not willingly, of course, or consciously for that matter, but still.

"UME!" Hamada was saying. The guy had stood up on his chair and put his foot on the table, such as it was. He was, Umehara thought, terrible at this gambling thing. Hamada, Umehara continued his musing as he started stacking his coins, shouldn't wear shorts so much. Not when he had plans on putting his foot on tables and such. Goodness, Tajima and Hanai could see the world.

Speaking of Tajima and Hanai -- Umehara snuck a look at them to see if they were going to steal his coins, too, but Hanai had just started looking red in the face and Tajima was... well, Tajima, freckles and all. Ume didn't really know what to make of that kid. But anyway--

"Dude, are you okey?" he asked, squinting at Hanai. The guy gave a start and shook his head, turning redder. "I'm fine. Really."

Hamada stopped ranting to inspect Hanai from his higher vantage point, saw no reason for more concern than his winnings, and went back to harassing him for the rocks. Ume chucked Hamada on the head with one. "DUDE, your team's captain doesn't look so good. Shut up."

Hanai blushed, fidgeted in his place and shook his head some more. "I--I---I'm okey. Really!" he squeaked. Tajima gave him an openly concerned look.

"You look sick," he pointed out, dodging when Hamada pounced on him in retaliation to being told to shut up.

"I'm not!" Hanai said, putting his head to the table and turning red to the tips of his ears. Tajima just grinned.

"He's feeling a little hot?"

"Hot, right," Ume echoed doubtfully, standing up to peer at the kid. He felt Hamada trying to sneak up on him again and promptly dodged again, but he overstepped this time and, with the grace of an ox, tripped over his chair. Hamada, true to the lummox' nature, tripped with him.

Three different things happened: Umehara felt his skull make contact with the floor, he promptly dropped his well-earned (and cheated) coins and stones, and he saw why exactly Hanai was 'feeling hot'.

Well, at least the hand down Hanai's pants was a perfectly logical explanation. If he thought about it, it was the more desirable reason, too -- Hanai sick would be bad for the team. At least this -- _this_ just meant there was nothing to worry about.

Hamada, apparently not seeing the hand job happening _right under the table_, promptly kissed him.

So Tajima and Hanai weren't watching them, and Hamada hadn't seen the freshmen's _activity_ yet, but that was not an excuse for Hamada to start pawing at him.

Still, though, the view was very conducive to bodily reactions.

Umehara smacked Hamada on the head the same time Hanai smacked Tajima.

"OW," they both exclaimed -- the hand on Hanai's privates retreated back up and Hamada crawled off him. If anything, he should be the one feeling the pain, given that his head just banged against the floor, but shock did that to people. Hanai, on the other hand, had quickly and wisely dragged the tablecloth down to cover his parts. Ume didn't really care; it wasn't his tablecloth.

No wonder those two didn't mind him winning all the time, albeit by cheating. Made sense.


End file.
